Friday Afternoon

Havermouth, Five Years Before

Heath watched from where he sat on the bank as Aislen surfaced from the water, her dark hair spreading out in the water like ink. Wet, her hair came to her waist, and he wasn’t entirely sure why that both surprised and fascinated him. She swam in her skin, like they all did, and the flashes of the curve of her arse, the shy peek of nipple above the water line entranced and taunted him.

Rhett caught her against him, wrapping his arms around her, and she shone with her enjoyment of his casual, easily delivered affection. She was less confident with Heath and Cameron, her eyes vulnerable and her expression uncertain when Cameron, laughing, surfaced within the drift of her hair.

“Do I look like Rhett now?” He asked, pouting his smoulder as he posed with her hair over his own, running streams of water over his face and plastering to his skin.

“Only if you let me pierce your lip,” Rhett tapped his fingernail against his piercing. “And then you might have my sex